


Set the Table

by shines97



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, well sort of i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 20:29:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1578512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shines97/pseuds/shines97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve was not expecting a visitor. Lucky for him, he bought enough Thai food for two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set the Table

**Author's Note:**

> the wonderful, wonderful [rally](http://barrnes.tumblr.com) inspired me to write this by [asking me](http://drachen.co.vu/post/84947320743) how i imagined steve's and bucky's reunion. thanks, sweetheart! ♥

"And that's a 'Yes' for Thai food," Steve muttered to himelf as he crossed off another item on his I-need-to-catch-up-list.  He couldn't quite remember who had told him to write it down in the first place but he made a mental note to tell them 'Thanks' the next time he saw them. He had been unsure about it when he first entered the Thai restaurant - no, more like an incredibly small diner - but those doubts soon vanished when the cook exited the tiny kitchen and the most delicious smell hit Steve square in the face. He'd never tried Thai before so he simply ordered whatever he thought sounded nice. In the end, he walked out of there with eleven take out food boxes.

Balancing the stacks of containers in the crook of his left arm, he fumbled for his keys, careful not to drop anything. Finding the key to his apartment was one thing, actually opening the door another. He ended up pressing his upper body against the door frame to make sure his food wouldn't tumble down and sighed in relief when he heard the lock open with a satisfying  _klick_. 

His apartment welcomed him silently, as always. He threw his keys onto the small table in his living room and flicked on the lights on the way to his dinner table where he finally put down the Thai food. It took Steve a moment to process just _how much food_ he had actually bought; his table was practically overflowing with exotic dishes. The smell of curry was heavy in the air. Steve shrugged and took off his jacket, tossing it onto the chair next to him. He turned to his kitchen, Tony's voice in his head telling him to  _try curry and soy sauce at least once in your life, cap_. He wasn't really sure if that would be a good idea but he opened the cupboard anyway. Far be it from him to not at least give it a shot.

He was about to take a seat and enjoy all of the eleven dishes when he remembered the sandwich from last week in his fridge. Or was it two weeks ago?  _I should probably throw that out,_ he thought. Steve had no idea why he even bothered to make sandwiches anymore. They always ended up in the fridge, uneaten and forgotten, until he found them behind a carton of milk, already an unhealthy shade of blue and green. He found this one in the back corner of his fridge, hidden behind an empty egg carton and a half-empty jar of mayonnaise.  _Well, at least I wrapped it in cling film,_ he thought gratefully as he picked it up between his thumb and index finger, grimacing at the mushy consistency. It looked even worse than he had expected, really. The ham had turned a sickly shade of gray, the colors of the bread ranged from black to blue to white and what had once been lettuce now looked like rotten algae. Steve shuddered and quickly dropped it in the bin.

When he turned around to go back to the table he stopped in mid-stride, unable to take one more step. If he'd still been holding that sandwich he would have dropped it now. At the other end of the table stood a man in blue jeans, torn and frayed at the knees and hastily stuffed into black boots, a black shirt and a black leather jacket with the collar popped up. His shoulder-length hair was still mussed from the wind outside, his left hand was thrust deep into the pocket of his jacket.

Bucky.

Steve had played out his reunion with Bucky in his mind several hundred times now, always with a different setting and under different circumstances. But never once had he thought he would be surprised by him at his own dinner table.

He knew he should react  _somehow,_ probably plant both his feet firmly on the ground, raise his fists and get ready to fight but he couldn't seem to move. His brain was frozen solid, his muscles as tense as stone. His gaze was fixed on Bucky's left hand, buried in his jacket, hiding the metal of his arm. Steve hadn't even looked at his face yet but he didn't have to. He would know his best friend anywhere.

Hours seemed to have passed when in reality the sweep hand of his watch hadn't even ticked. Only when his eyes flickered up to meet Bucky's did he relax.  _He remembers,_ Steve thought, relieved.  _Maybe not all of it but he remembers enough._ It was plain to see by the way he stood there. Bucky had always been confident and self-assured but the man that was staring at him now gave off a vibe of insecurity. His shoulders were slightly hunched and his eyes were as restless as he'd ever seen them. Bucky was the epitome of a guilt-laden man. In the end, it had been his eyes that had given him away though. He had always been able to read Bucky like a book.

Seeing that he wasn't the only one at a loss of words made Steve feel slightly better about gaping at him. However, he still didn't quite know what to do.  _This is Bucky_ , he told himself,  _don't be an idiot. Say something._ As hard as he tried, he seemed unable to think of the right thing to say, if there even was something you should say in a situation like this. Instead, they just stood there and stared at each other in silence.

Steve was tempted to walk around the table, put his hand on Bucky's shoulder and pull him in for a hug but he was afraid of how he would react. Only a month had passed since the Winter Soldier had disappeared off the face of the earth and Steve thought a month seemed like a short time to recover your memories and learn to cope with them. But then again, he wasn't quite sure just  _how much_ Bucky actually remembered. Maybe he hadn't even figured out who Steve was yet. But then why come to his apartment?

The two men stood unmoving, unspeaking. After the longest ten seconds of Steve's life, Bucky finally broke the silence.

"Hey, Punk."

Steve blinked. 

"See you bought food enough for two," he joked, gesturing at all the food on Steve's table. A playful smirk was tugging at the corner of Bucky's mouth but he wouldn't allow himself to smile yet. His eyes were fixed on Steve.

Steve blinked again. Twice. Finally, he laughed.

"Jerk."

At that, Bucky allowed himself to let go, a smile spreading across his face, his eyes lighting up with relief.  _Welcome home,_ Steve thought.

 


End file.
